


Body Language

by BeesKnees



Category: Thor (2011)
Genre: Community: norsekink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-30
Updated: 2011-11-30
Packaged: 2017-10-26 17:20:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/285898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeesKnees/pseuds/BeesKnees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki doesn't allow himself to be caught unless he wants to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Body Language

Loki rarely allows himself to be caught—and Thor isn’t enough of a fool to think that this would ever happen without Loki’s permission. He knows his brother’s powers. He knows that Loki could easily free himself if he wanted to. It would take a simple though, a simple brush of his fingers, and Loki could be free, and Thor far away.

But, at this moment, Loki is ensnared beneath him. He can still feel the way that Loki is breathing unevenly. He can see the way that his brother’s chest rises and falls, all smooth, pale skin slicked sheen with sweat. His skin trembles and with each breath he takes, the green silk pulls in against his mouth, damp from Loki’s lips. Thor thinks that if he were to take the gag away now, he would see every word he drew from Loki’s tongue imprinted on the fabric, a physical manifestation of everything he has done to his brother.

One of Thor’s arms tightens around Loki’s waist, drawing him closer to his body again. Their chests slide together and Loki lets out a muffled sound that Thor can’t decipher. He runs one hand along the edge of the gag and Loki strains against him.

There are already red stripes circling about Loki’s wrists, formations that will, undoubtedly, turn to bruises later. They will be signs that only Thor can read. Loki could magic them away, but he won’t. He’ll keep them hidden underneath the edges of his sleeves, a tantalizing reminder of what has happened, something that exists just beneath the surface. Loki will know that Thor will know that they are there, and, perhaps, sometimes, he’ll let just the edge of one slip out during a feast, a constant temptation.

He runs his hands away from Loki’s face and up the length of his arms. They are splayed, pinned apart, his elbows bent at angles that remind him oddly of Loki’s spread legs. He trails his fingers along the smooth crux and watches as Loki moves against the bonds again. His fingers reach up, long and elegant, as if they could stretch beyond the simple bit of rope that has him tied to Thor’s headboard at the moment.

Just as slowly, Thor runs one blunt fingertip against the edge of the rope, against the irritated skin. Loki pushes up against him, and whether it’s to encourage the touch or to pull away from it, Thor doesn’t know. Loki’s face is pressed into the area between his shoulder and his chest at the moment and Thor can feel the damp silk stick against his own skin for a moment.

Finally, he pulls back, pulls away, though he is hardly able to pause in his admiration of his brother’s beauty. It has never been a secret between them, but Loki doesn’t typically stay for moments like these. He may come freely to Thor’s bed, but he has never seemed to know how to take Thor’s compliments.

Thor pulls the blindfold away first. Only then can he see the full extent of how he has affected Loki. There is a high flush that graces the arch of his cheekbones. His dark hair is in disarray. A few strands fall in against his cheek and the ends have begun to curl from the moisture. His eyes examine Thor scathingly and Thor can only imagine what Loki would say if he had the ability to speak. He knows the words would cut. But he cares little, because Loki cannot speak at the moment; his words cannot counteract the image that Thor has in front of him.

He slides his hands down his brother’s sides, pulling slowly away. He untangles their bodies, letting his fingers linger over Loki’s hips longer than they need to. He has always enjoyed how his hands look when matched up against his brother’s skin.

Thor gets up off of the bed and starts to gather his own clothes off of the floor without untying Loki or removing the gag. Loki makes a strangled noise of protest when it becomes evident that Thor has no intention of coming back for him. Thor turns to him and grins wildly as he pulls his pants back on. He is surely not to blame. He thinks that it would be rather nice to return to his bed later on this evening and still find Loki stretched across his bed, the very image of wantonness. Who can blame him for wanting to preserve the masterpiece a little longer?

And surely, above all else, Loki knows that he rarely lets himself be caught. It would be nothing for him to escape, and they both know it. If he is still here when Thor returns—well.

Thor cheerfully ignores the look Loki shoots him and shuts the door behind himself.


End file.
